


You Look Thirsty

by Librarity



Series: Gobblepotalliance2019 [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Romance, Bad Pick-Up Lines, Dorks in Love, Gobblepotalliance2019, Jim is hopeless, Love at First Sight, M/M, Season/Series 04 AU, Smitten Jim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-13 15:19:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19253833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Librarity/pseuds/Librarity
Summary: Jim does not meet Oswald in an alley behind Mooney's, no, he meets him under very different circumstances three years later. The dark haired stranger Jim encounters one night enthralls him from the first glance, capturing his attention as if he was meant to find him.The question is, will the sly creature with a sharp smile have any desire to keep him or will they merely pass each other by, there and then lost? Will Oswald be his love of a lifetime or the one slipping through his fingers?Gobblepotalliance2019





	You Look Thirsty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that [ BlackArcticFox ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackArticFox/pseuds/BlackArticFox) and [CaptainChilly ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainChilly) are my inspiration for all this, particularly all the pickup lines I use in this fic!!! They are AMAZING! They were my fic angels. The very best of the best!
> 
> Prompts are:  
> One teaching the other  
> Waiting together

Going to the lounge that night was more a way to prove to Harvey and the rest of the cackling office busybodies that he was capable of having a life. James Gordon was absorbed in his work,  that much was true,  but he could let go when he wanted to.  At least,  that was what he told himself when he entered the rather posh club that had gained mass popularity since it opened a few months before. 

It was a bit louder and more upscale than places Jim would frequent normally but there had to be something that kept the place so busy every night.  He could admit when he was curious.  He came to see what the fuss was about. 

It seemed like a place people went to dress up and rub shoulders with people that were classy,  or more classy than you would find in a run of the mill bar.  It was a lounge,  after all. Even in a suit he felt like he stuck out and he was just thankful he had not changed into casual clothes before venturing in or he might not have been allowed in at all. It really might have been better to go somewhere less swanky. 

It was ostentatious and he doubted there was any need for all the finery. The prices might drive up the caliber of clients but he doubted it did much to improve the quality of people swaying about the shiny tiled floor. People were all the same no matter how many diamonds you draped them in. He had not been to the long, dark colored bar yet to sample the drinks but he really saw nothing besides lighting and fancy furniture separating the _Iceberg Lounge_ from any other place.  At least, that was, until he set eyes on someone sitting idly at the bar. 

Jim had never seen a more beautiful creature. The club lights lit up his lily skin, making him glow like some sort of disco angel; no, more like a wild fae venturing into the city. The man at the bar was thin, a bit more than Jim normally liked but it lent him a delicate sort of aura that set something off in Jim. It made him want to keep all the other men far away from him.

If there was an easy way to describe him with his brushed back, feathery black hair, it would have been avian. He looked like a bird transformed into a human, magical and exotic.

His delicate hands were wrapped around a crystal glass, long fingers like the delicate toes of a little bird. If he had to guess, he would put money on those fingers being talented over the keys of a piano.

His facial features were thin and sharp but it fit him, even the harsh point of his nose. The harshness of his face only made him more gorgeous, like a sculpture people paid billions to keep in their homes. There was something about his eyes too, something that drew a person in and held them captive, something equally dangerous as it was enticing. It drew Jim’s mind right back to his idea of fae and a shiver ran down his spine.

Legs trembling slightly, Jim made his way to the bar. He had to get closer, had to speak to that ethereal being if it killed him.  While he almost never did things like this,  he felt,  in this case,  he simply had to.  The desires to just be near the smaller man was consuming him until it was all he could focus on.

He slid onto the stool, nearly falling off in his nervousness. There was a time He had been more confident in things like this,  but those days left him long ago. He clenched his fingers into a fist to hide the way they shook and he took the plunge.

Jim gathered up a shaky smile and tried not to sound like his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth, "You look thirsty.... I could get you a drink, maybe?"

He nearly flinched visibly at his own horrible opening line.  He really should be able to do better than that but apparently not. 

The man’s eyes did not lift from their fixed place on the wall of liquor bottles, "I already have one."

Unfortunately,  he'd seen that and his brain ignored the detail. 

Jim felt the shaking in his hands get worse as he scrambled for a comeback. Obviously he had a drink, Jim had seen it in his hand, and yet he so utterly dropped all common sense the second he opened his mouth. He could have started with a greeting, at least!

"Well... for when you run out of that one." Jim offered, the shake starting to creep into his voice.

He was so bad at this.  He was bad at flirting, dating, relationships, normal conversations,  and the list went on. 

"I can manage, thank you." Came the curt, formal sounding dismissal.

Jim swallowed against the sudden lump of failure curling up in his chest,  "Yes! Yes, of course you can I… did not mean you couldn’t. Obviously, you can… you look very capable." He was making it so much worse!

Those sharp, sea-glass green eyes lifted from their study of the opposite wall, lips parting as he took a breath, pink, pointed tongue moving to deliver a lashing. Jim sat frozen in place as those eyes found him. The other man seemed to freeze as well, the building barrage of a cutting dismissal stalled inside his mouth. For what seemed like an eternity, those eyes peeled Jim apart, layer by layer, reading him as if his life was a revelation spelled out in the lines of his face.

Being judged so harshly, those eyes looking him up and down, assessing his inferiority was a little more than Jim could endure. Someone like this, dressed in an Italian silk, hand tailored, white-tie attire would not find a Men’s Wearhouse, off the rack ensemble particularly appealing.  

While he was not typically a defeatist, he knew when he was outmatched so he slid to his feet again, "I'll leave you alone."

The man took another breath, turning in his chair a little in order to face his new companion, "Maybe _I_ should get you one instead… considering you are the one lacking a drink.”

Jim openly stared for a moment and the man stared back, taking away Jim’s ability to breathe. In the next moment he was back in his seat, leaning against the bar for support to keep him from falling on him face. He had no plan of action in mind at all besides not putting his foot directly back in his mouth and he was not confident he could avoid that.

The man leaned forward, voice almost sultry, “What will it be then, hm?”

Jim suddenly had no memory at all of what he usually ordered, only really aware of the green eyes swallowing him up, “Anything.” Those dark brows jerked upward for a second so Jim corrected himself with a breathy, “Surprise me.”

A devilish, sly smile spread over those smooth lips, “Bold of you to trust me.”

Jim did not pay attention to what was ordered, fascinated by the shape of that mouth as he formed the words. He was shocked to still be sitting there in this man’s presence, allowed to linger. Those eyes had seen every detail of his cheap clothing and generic haircut. They surely had seen the brand of his watch and knew it was worth several thousand less than the one around his own slender wrist. Why had he permitted Jim to stay?

“I do not believe we have been introduced, am I correct?”

Jim blinked at him, the purr in his voice sending more of those chills down Jim’s spine, “Gordon. James Gordon.”

The dark haired man seemed to find amusement in that, “As opposed to Bond?”

Jim could not help the way he smiled too wide, looking away shyly from embarrassment, “And you?”

“Copplepot,” He mimicked with a grin, eyes twinkling, “Oswald Cobblept.”

Jim outright giggled, caught up in the merriment of the moment, taking a particular glee from having gotten the other man to smile when he had formerly been so somber. It felt like an accomplishment whether it was or not. Honestly, he rather loved seeing this man smile. It was beautiful.

He accepted his glass of ice, orange zest, and red liquid from the bartender without being sure what it was. Jim searched his mind for intelligent, flirty things to say and came up considerably at a disadvantage considering he mainly heard stories from Harvey about this sort of thing. It was not as if he made it a habit to flirt with strangers; honestly,  he fell haplessly into every relationship he'd ever had.

Jim had not dated, or tried to date, nor even flirt in at least a year. After the painful breakup with his former fiance the thought of being burned again was too frightening. Why he decided to try changing that tonight, well, he had no idea. He was likely setting himself up for failure.  

Jim licked his dry lips to keep them from sticking to his teeth while he stumbled through what was sure to be a drawn out event of making a fool of himself. “So, do you come here often?”

“As I own it, I should hope so.” Oswald offered cattily, that sly smile tugging his lips into an all too attractive smirk.

Oh boy...

Jim bit his lower lip nervously, mind desperately spinning to make it seem less like he was a clueless ignoramus, “Ah, of course! That would make sense then… you being here often.” He was failing miserably and he wished he could crawl under the bar.  

Oswald searched him, eyes so perceptive, “And you? I do not remember seeing you here before.”

“T-this is my first time! Coming here, you know… in a long time.” Jim stumbled over himself.

It did not take a genius to see that Jim was out of his depth, way out. It was just his luck he decided to let his heart and mind check out his common sense at the door. He really would go for the owner of the entire Iceberg Lounge! It had been a bad idea to even walk in the door but then he compounded his own problems. The owner? Of all people? He was cursed!

This man could buy Jim’s house with the change in his pocket, meanwhile, Jim was still paying the mortgage.  His hands felt shaky all over again so he curled them tightly around the cool glass. If he had any sense, he would bow out now, only he could not bring himself to. As much as he knew it was likely to shatter his pride and self worth in short order, he wanted to stay in that seat and linger beside this gorgeous creature that could likely eat him alive. He always had a bad sense for when to quit.

“It’s nice!” Jim made an encompassing gesture with one hand, “Very nice!”

“Thank you! I do my best.” Oswald looked pointedly at the drink Jim was clinging to, “How do you like your Negroni?”

Oh, so that was what he had! He still did not know what it was. No one he knew had ever ordered one but he had seen them floating around before, he just never paid attention. He always thought they looked a bit too outlandish for him. On the whole, he never felt the need to order things with strips of orange in it.  Oswald's own drink looked considerably more simple than his did.  Still, it would be rude if he just stared at it all night.

Jim took a sip and was hit instantly with the strength of the alcohol and he congratulated himself on having the foresight only to sip it. It tasted a bit like marmalade with a sharply bitter bite. Though, chasing the bitterness was an underlying sweetness, an addictive aftertaste of orange and something like cherry.

Jim glanced shyly at his companion, unsure he could really manage to form words about a drink when he could not even think of some of Harvey’s pickup lines, “It’s really good! Thank you, I like it!”

On the second sip, he noticed the way Oswald’s eyes flicked to his lips and then to the exposed column of his throat as he swallowed. That all on its own could make that drink addictive. It might become one of his guilty pleasures at this rate, especially considering he had to take another sip to give the other man something to watch. It was an added bonus that it meant he would not have to speak for that span of time.

“It is a very popular drink, a drinker’s drink, one for the sophisticated man. They say you need a mature palate to properly appreciate it. It's no Tom Collins, at least."

That one Jim at least knew and had sampled, unlike the drink in his hand. 

“Best thing about it though? Most people don’t get the following headache in the morning even if they drink too much.”

"That's rather handy!" He nodded, eyes dropping to the drink.

Jim had no idea what to say next and searching his brain for possible topics only offered him blank spaces or Harvey’s cringe worthy pickup lines. Before he honestly thought about what he was doing, one of the most popular ones sprang to his tongue.

“Did it hurt?” Jim started, already terrified of the following results, yet his lips kept moving, “When you fell from heaven?”

Those sinful lips parted on a startled half smile, half scoff, before he tilted his chin in challenge, “As a matter of fact, no, but I did scrape my knee crawling out of hell.”

Jim inhaled sharply in surprise, trying not to let his jaw drop at the impressive return. He felt his fascination grow exponentially at such a snappy, sinfully hilarious reply.

There was no way he could have come up with a response the way this enigmatic, fae creature had. The sheer wit, sarcasm, and deadly intelligence shone through so clearly and Jim found himself wondering, once again, what he had gotten himself into. Jim felt all twisted up, a little aroused, a little in awe, a little amuse, and more than slightly terrified.

“I don’t see any horns,” Jim found himself saying, his mouth running away from him while he was too focused on how hard his heart was beating.

Oswald gave him a sly, sidelong look, “Oh, trust me, they’re there! I just might have to show them to you, if you play your cards right.”

“What would you say if I told you I’ve got a few great card tricks up my sleeve?” Jim asked, matching the catty tone he was receiving.

That pointed tongue slipped out to lick at those tempting lips, “I would say that I would be surprised if you didn’t have quite a few hidden tricks and _talents_.”

There was a good bit of heat creeping up under Jim’s collar but he tried not to notice it, “I have a few."

Oswald leaned forward in his seat, “Well, just what might those be? You know what I do now but I’m at a disadvantage. What exactly is it that you do?”

Jim felt the instant need to lie, call himself anything and everything but what he was; an in debt cop with nothing to show for his service in the Army or the GCPD but scars from bullet holes. He was not exactly a high functioning example of a great catch for a man that owned a club like the Iceberg Lounge. The minute he opened his mouth he would be instantly dismissed and possibly removed from the club the way he expected to be the minute he learned who he was talking to.

He was not ready to break the spell and be ousted from the company he so desperately wanted to keep. Lying about it would very likely be just as bad though.

Jim couldn’t help himself now. In for a penny, in for a pound. He leaned one elbow on the bar and draped the other over his chair, trying to look relaxed, “I have a problem and I’ll bet you can help me.”

The interest perked in those eyes, dark eyebrow lifting high as he leaned him chin indolently on his fist, “Oh really? Do share with the class then?”

Those green eyes were so intense, focused so intently on him that Jim’s fingers started shaking yet again with nervousness, “I’m trying to write a letter but I only have twenty five characters…” God… what-what was the rest of Harvey’s line? Oswald’s stare was hypnotizing, like a cobra’s over a bird, and Jim’s mind blanked, answer stricken from his mind to leave him foundering helplessly, “So I need a quick one.”

Jim’s heart and stomach hit the floor the very second the words left his mouth. Those dark, perfect eyebrows shot even higher, long, black lashes fluttering, and lips curling inward to tightly wrap around his teeth and Jim could visibly see him choking down a laugh.

“A letter… a quick letter- I mean!” It could not save him at this point, nothing would.

Oswald’s eyes were positively glittering and he seemed to gather himself before he answered, voice a little strained, “I am fairly sure the letter in question was a vowel, and my best guess is that it is a ‘u’. Does that help? Or were you looking for a different letter?”

Jim’s neck and ears felt like they were on fire, mortification swallowing him up, but he nodded quickly, “N-no… that’s-I think that’s the letter.”

Oswald chuckled, dark and silky like chocolate, "James, you are indeed an interesting man."

Jim risked a look at him from under his lashes, "Is that a good kind of interesting or bad?"

"I suppose we have yet to fully discover that. I should think I'll need to get to know you more before I can judge it properly."

Jim's frazzled mind worked that over a minute, "So I guess you will have to spend more time with me if you want to unravel my mysteries."

Oswald's eyes nearly lit up, gleaming with sudden intensity, "Oh... _yes_ , and don't think I won't... _unravel_ them."

Jim grinned, seeing his possible opening to pull the line a little more, "If you think you can."

Oswald narrowed his eyes, leaning closer, and dropping his voice to a timbre that made Jim's heart stutter, "Do you think I can't unravel you, Jim? Do you think you can remain illusive and untouchable? I assure you, I'm not one that shies away from a challenge."

Jim shrugged, doing his absolute best not to let it be apparent that he was in any way moved, "Alright, then figure me out, Sherlock. Deduce away." Jim took a drink for courage, "Find my secrets." 

"You want me to?" Oswald sounded surprised and also intrigued, which was good considering it would make him stay longer.

"Why not?" Jim leaned closer this time, dropping his own voice, "Take me apart and figure out how I tick. I'm interested to hear what you think you see."

The nostrils of that long nose flared and Jim would swear those green eyes darkened, "If you're inviting me to, how could I resist undressing your mystery a little?"

Jim leaned back in an attempt to look casual even though his heart was pounding frantically in his chest.

"You're on your feet a lot," Oswald began, "I can tell by your shoes."

Jim instinctively tried to tuck his feet out of sight and that only made the other man preen with triumph.

"You're practical rather than flashy and ostentatious. You're grounded, not impetuous, but... I would say you have a wild side, a bit of spontaneity. After all, you started a conversation with a stranger."

"And you're still talking to me, so you're a little wild too." Jim offered easily, trying to contribute and possibly derail things considering he didn't really want to be picked apart. It might have been an off handed, round about way too tell the man he was not a catch, thus avoiding having to say the words himself, but it was also unnerving. 

"Oh, darling, you have no idea! I've never been exactly... domestic, shall we say?"

Jim's mind tripped on the pet name and took a minute to catch up to the rest, "You seem like the type that can always spin a situation to their advantage. A different sort of grounded, but still grounded enough. You have a club in Gotham, after all, so you have to be pretty clever or you'd be trampled." 

Oswald hummed in agreement, "I know when to play it safe and when to take risks. But I'm not the one under investigation right now, you are."

"Sorry, please continue."

Oswald's eyes raked over him slowly and thoroughly, "You're not like the usual crowd in here." Jim tensed, and it was clear it did not go unnoticed but the analysis continued, "You aren't a spoiled brat that doesn't know the meaning of practicality, let alone life. You work hard and don't expect things to be easy. You like a challenge, I think."

 "Not sure I like challenges... but I'm not afraid to fight. Some times things are worth fighting for." Jim swirled the ice in his glass thoughtfully, thinking of all the times fighting had nearly cost him his job and he had to go blackmail his way back in with whatever Harvey could get him.  His early days had been rather bumpy and he nearly sank more than he swam.  But he was still floating,  though maybe not for long.  He never stayed out of trouble long even if things were calm for now. 

"You like to be a hero." Oswald chuckled lightly, "The hero cop of Gotham."

Jim jolted,  caught entirely off guard, "You knew?"

He must have looked like a deer in headlights because Oswald's smile turned gentle and he reached out,  settling a comforting hand on Jim's arm, "Only once you gave your name," he didn't retract his hand as Jim expected, "Why hide it? You should be proud; only in Gotham a short time and you already exposed the Arkham scam as well as several dirty cops. You also helped the Wayne boy and found the drug addict that killed his parents. That's hardly shameful."

"I'm not ashamed, I just," Jim hesitated,  hard pressed to ignore the way that thumb gently began running circles over his arm, "didn't want to be judged on it immediately."

"I like to judge people on their own merit, not their reputation." He kept rubbing Jim's arm through the material of his jacket,  gentle but no less impacting, branding him, "I suppose I understand your hesitancy. I assume when people find out they either pull away or are too interested in a demonstration with your handcuffs."

Jim hoped the heat rushing to his cheeks was not visible, "Basically,  yeah.  But not you,  huh?"

Oswald leaned close,  devilish smile playing on his lips, "Don't worry,  I'm not going to ask to see your handcuffs,  Detective. I'm not pulling away either. As I said, I make my own judgements on people, and you interest me. You seem like an honestly good man,  and that's so rare these days."

When Oswald pulled back into his own space,  Jim nearly followed him. "There are good people here."

Oswald regarded him with an odd look, "There are,  and when you find them,  you keep them around."

"Are you going to keep me around?" Jim couldn't help asking. 

Oswald's brows twitched upward but the look of surprise did not stick, "Possibly. I suppose I haven't decided yet."

"Fair enough." Jim admitted,  though he had hoped for more assurance. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this, the Wayne's were killed a few years later, slowing the general chaos. Jim came back to Gotham a bit later as well. Oswald was thus older and wiser when they died. 
> 
> However, he did still sink Falcone using Moroni. He infiltrated Moroni the way he did in the show, but with Fish's direction. I like to think she saw his potential before most people. He still double crossed them all, of course. He still got his leg messed up, and still pushed Fish off the bridge. I think his mother probably was killed in the fallout of the gang wars though.  
> I'm thinking Sofia stepped up the second her farther died in the little war and that's probably who Oswald has as competition for king but no one on the outside really knows what went down, particularly not the police. The mob is probably split between them but no one has really come out and said who is boss because neither of them want it to be common knowledge. 
> 
> Basically, it's just a less dramatic thing in general, things happened slowly. Jim doesn't know that Oswald is a huge name in crime because Fish taught him well and after he lost his mother he just didn't have the desire to shout from the roof tops. 
> 
> You can decide whatever you want, I'm leaving it open as far as history on purpose. But time wise, we are in season 4. Thus why Oswald is not the stuttering darling he was in season one, this is season 4 Oswald. Though he clearly has not declared Pax Penguina, because Jim would have gotten that message.


End file.
